


Letters to Clarke

by blarkeontheark



Series: Letters to Clarke [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Aliens, Angst, F/M, Like, No one has any chill, So much angst, Trigedasleng, Unity Day, abby and octavia appear for like 2 seconds, algae salads, bellamy is really sad, failed radio conversations, i made up a new word in trigedasleng, i'm so good at this, it means asteroid, literally it means space rock, no i'm not please kill me, really sad, skaibouda, so is raven, spacekru, the eligius dudes, well that's what monty thinks anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 19:28:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11020017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarkeontheark/pseuds/blarkeontheark
Summary: While Clarke is trying to radio Bellamy, Bellamy is writing letters to Clarke. Post-S4.





	Letters to Clarke

**Author's Note:**

> can bellamy blake catch a fucking bellamy break

year one, month three

Dear Clarke,

I know you're dead. I know you're dead, and that's the only reason I'm writing this to you. Raven thought I should start documenting this portion of humanity. But whenever I think about humanity, all I can think about is you. 

You. You are the definition of humanity to me. You saved us, all of us, so many times.

Do you remember the time we went to Luna’s rig? We were on the shore, and I was moping because of Octavia. At the time, I thought she would never forgive me. I was wrong, of course, as I usually am. And I remember you telling me that she would come around.

I also remember telling you just how angry I was at you for leaving, and that I never wanted to feel that way again.

God, Clarke. How can I be angry at you for saving our lives? How can I hate you when I know that you sacrificed yourself so that we could have a chance to make it to the Ark?

I’m so angry.

I’m angry at myself, for letting you die alone. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. I’m not even writing about the Ark. I’m just pouring out all of the things I never got to say to you when you were alive. I keep trying to picture it—you, lifeless and still—and I can’t. Even though I know that’s not how it looks. Even though I know the radiation rips every cell of your body apart and you disintegrate into a flaming pile of ashes. It’s horrifying to think about, my Clarke in ashes.

Fuck, I’m writing this in pen and it doesn’t have an eraser. I didn’t mean—well, it doesn’t matter anyway, does it? You’re gone. I’ll never see you again.

I can’t do this.

…

year one, month four

Dear Clarke,

Raven’s convinced me to take another stab at it. She told me to think of it as me telling you everything you died for so that we could live for it. So firstly, I’m gonna tell you exactly how awkward it is to have not one but two unrealistically happy couples up in space with us. It constantly feels like Echo, Raven and I are triple-third-wheeling on a double date with Monty, Harper, Murphy and Emori. What’s worse is, Monty and Murphy have almost started to become friends. Not sure about Emori and Harper. But nobody seems to be at odds, which is a huge relief. We all need each other right now to survive.

The algae is beginning to bloom. We’ve been rationing strictly, and of course, we’re down one, so we’ve still got extra "normal people" food. We’ll save that for a rainy day. Amazing how quickly we caught onto Grounder lingo, huh? It doesn’t rain in space. I miss the rain. Raven’s at peace here. I think she wishes she could go on another spacewalk but we simply don’t have the oxygen.

Did you know that Emori tried to save you? It’s such a random thought, but it’s something I wish I’d gotten to tell you. When you didn’t make it back to the rocket, she practically yelled at Raven to give you another minute. 

Raven wasn’t the one who said no. It was me. It’s something that’s always tugging at the back of my mind—if we’d waited another minute, would you have run through the doors? Would you be standing next to me right now, alive?

Raven tells me not to think about it, and that you would have wanted this for us. I think I said that to her once. And I also said that I didn’t want you to have died in vain.

God, Clarke, I miss you. I miss you so much.

…

year one, month six

Dear Clarke,

We were so close to running out of oxygen. Raven and Monty managed to fix the oxygenator in the nick of time, but I couldn’t help being reminded of the day we landed. The day of Praimfaya. The day you died.

It doesn’t feel real to me. Whenever I think of leaving you on earth, I think of you striding through the burning earth with a mission, a purpose, a will to survive. But maybe it’s right that you aren’t there anymore. Maybe that’s what happens when someone dies, someone that the world needs more than any other. It crumbles. 

I can’t shake the strangest feeling that you’re waiting for me somewhere. 

Wherever you are, I’m not there yet, Clarke. I’m not done living for now. When these five years are up, my sister needs me. Your mother…Clarke, I have to tell your mother. I have to tell her you’re dead.

…

year one, month seven

Dear Clarke,

Algae is disgusting and I think I’d rather fling myself into Praimfaya than eat it for four and a half more years. Raven has ordered that we split the remaining “normal people” rations into five piles: one for each Unity Day. Unity Day isn’t for another two months. But I can wait two months for a can of soup. With algae salad on the side.

I’ve been seeing a lot of brightly colored stars lately. Raven and Monty are fascinated: they say it’s not a planet, and nothing they’ve ever seen. Harper’s been poring over astronomy charts.

Meanwhile, Emori and Echo are still adjusting to the concept of space. They’ve never seen anything like it. I’m pretty sure Emori still thought we were playing a big practical joke up until the rocket took off. But she’s alive, and Murphy’s always less of an asshole when she’s around.

Echo…Echo’s always been a completely different animal. She’s fascinated by the concept of floating people, and somehow she managed to bring her dagger with her to space. Useful for the Unity Day food. We don’t have a can opener. Not so useful for living in space.

Raven’s desperate for another spacewalk, but we’ve started to focus on the problem of actually getting back down to the ground once the radiation is back to normal levels. At the moment, the world looks like a raging inferno. I can’t believe I left you to die in that mess.

I hope it was quick.

…

year one, month eight

Dear Clarke,

We still don’t have a plan to get to the ground. Harper’s less concerned, she says we’ll figure something out. It’s nice to not be on a 24-hour or 10-day timeline for once. We have over four years. 

Clarke, I haven’t seen you in eight months. You died eight months ago. Eight entire months. The longest I’d ever gone without seeing you since we landed on the ground was three. Remember the three months when you became Wanheda and disappeared into the woods? You were never the Commander of Death to me. As angry as I was at you, you have always just been Clarke.

Not even Clarke kom Skaikru. Just purely Clarke Griffin. 

Clarke, I never told you that I loved you.

I still do. I love you because you were my best friend and partner in crime. But I’m also in love with you.

This is the first time I’ve been able to admit it, but I think I’ve known for a long time. And so has everyone else.

I kind of want to destroy this now, but what’s the point? Everyone knows. And you’re gone. 

…

year one, month nine

Dear Clarke,

Today’s Unity Day. Remember the last Unity Day we celebrated? That was the first time I ever saw you kick back and relax a little. 

I didn’t get a can of soup. Courtesy of Echo’s knife, I got a can of pineapples. We all kind of shared the food, passing it around. There was a box of cookies, in an airtight seal, which Monty was pretty excited about.

There was a box, Clarke, with your name on it.

Murphy and Emori wanted to open it, but I wouldn’t let them. With Raven’s help, I found a place to hide it, safely tucked away.

When we come back to the ground, I’ll open it.

…

year two, month one

Dear Clarke, 

It’s been an entire year since we landed on the Ark. I haven’t written anything because there hasn’t been much to report, but Raven wants me to take some notes on my surroundings, and not just “blindly moping about your death.” Her words, not mine. She’s so annoying. 

We now have—surprise—a VARIETY of algae, instead of just one type. Makes dinners more interesting. I miss Unity Day.

We could really use your rationality around here. Monty and Harper have a habit of bickering over everything. I guess it’s a side effect of seeing each other every day. Echo says it will wear off.

Echo…I know I said I’d never trust Echo, and so far I’m sticking by that. But she’s really good at pushing everyone into shape. We’re spending most of our days exploring every room on the Ark, breaking into rooms we can’t get into with a key, reading the books that were left behind. None of us have wanted to go near the Sky Box yet, but eventually we’re going to have to. 

I wonder if I’ll recognize Octavia’s cell.

…

year two, month three

We broke into the Sky Box today, and the first thing I saw was the solitary confinement room with PRISONER 319 starkly labeled on the door. The door was open. I went inside.

It has your name written all over it, Clarke. Not in letters, but in pictures. The floor is a sky full of stars. The walls are trees and rivers. There is a sheaf of papers stuffed under the mattress with figures of people on the Ark sketched on them. 

One of them is your mother. Another is your father. And Wells.

I laid down on the bed for a while, just staring at the wall. Your drawings are something I can’t remember seeing in years, and it was a shock to my system after having lost you for so long, to see the colors screaming at me from across the room.

Raven came in after awhile, and sat down next to me. She didn’t ask. She didn’t need to. 

“I found Octavia’s cell,” she said finally.

It took all of my willpower to stand up and leave your room, Clarke, but I did. And I walked to the cell where my sister had been locked up for a year. BLAKE, O. Next to it, JORDAN, J. 

I walked, taking note of familiar names. MCINTYRE, H. MURPHY, J. MONROE, Z. MILLER, N. MBEGE, J. COLLINS, F. GREEN, M.

“Oh my God,” Harper laughed, sticking her head inside of her former cell. “I forgot how big of a crush I had on Jasper.”

“On Jasper?” Monty sounded vaguely offended, joining her in the cell. “What—did you write that?”

“HM+JJ? Yeah, young teenage me was obsessed with the boy in the cell next door.” Harper looped an arm around Monty. “Don’t worry. I didn’t know you then.”

“Jasper,” Monty muttered. “Jasper once called you low-hanging fruit.”

Harper sniffed dramatically. “And to think I ever wrote his initials on my cell wall.”

Echo was right. They’re getting along better. 

The others followed me back to your room after that and we all stood silently, looking around at your art. It was so obvious that you’d tried so hard to make this place tolerable to live in. 

I could almost feel your younger presence in this room. Seventeen-year-old Clarke Griffin, waiting anxiously for a chance to escape from her cell.

And to that girl, that does not yet know what’s coming, what she’ll face, the end she’ll reach:

May we meet again. 

…

year two, month six

Dear Clarke,

Something happened to the locks on the Sky Box. They’d been engineered to manually lock if they were left open for too long, and Raven doesn’t have the backdoor codes. So your door is shut. And it’s not opening again.

Raven’s been messing with the radio a lot lately. I think she seems to think that if she tries hard enough, she’ll contact the ground, but she never has. I don’t know who she thinks she’s trying to reach—Clarke is dead and the bunker’s radio is almost definitely switched off. But she spends time after dinner just fiddling with it, trying to find a signal that would avoid the damage of the radiation.

Monty got the Earth monitoring station kicked back into gear, surprisingly enough, and now we can see the devastation of Praimfaya in its full glory. The Earth looks like a burned-up, blackened piece of firewood. This could easily be the end of the human race, if we don’t figure out how to get to the ground. Who knows if the bunkerkru is still alive?

I’m not entirely sure I’ll ever be okay with losing you. It wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m not angry at you for leaving anymore—I just miss you more than words.

…

year two, month seven

Dear Clarke,

You’ll never believe it. I was wrong.

Okay, you might believe that part. But…Raven actually made contact with the bunker. Actual, living contact. There are people down there, alive. 

I don’t know if it’s my sister, or who. Raven says it’s somewhere between just beeping at each other and Morse code. Jaha and Kane understand Morse code, but the person on the other end doesn’t seem to, which makes me think it’s probably Octavia. 

Octavia. Alive.

Raven and Monty have been up for two nights straight, trying to figure out how to ease the static enough so that we could actually talk to them. Echo’s started joining them, occasionally trying her hand at the Morse code guide that Raven drew out for her. 

I spend a lot of time sitting outside the Sky Box. There’s a window there, that looks down on Earth, and I look out of it and wonder where you are now. Where are your ashes? Are they in the ocean? The trees? Were they swept into the sand? Did they disappear into nothingness?

The world is your grave, Clarke. And I will walk among your ashes when I come home.

…

year two, month nine

Dear Clarke,

It's Unity Day again. Monty found a few packets of seeds, and now we're able to grow...drumroll please...strawberries and peas. So we'll have a crop of strawberries ready in a couple of months, and then we'll get started growing the peas. It'll be such a relief to eat something more than algae every day of the year except, of course, our Unity Day rations. 

The brightly colored stars are growing closer and closer. Raven's starting to get suspicious. Stars don't do that. 

"And asteroids don't glow like that." She held up her star chart to the window, glaring. "There's nothing marked here, where those stars are. What the hell is this? An effect of the death wave?"

"Raven, the death wave was almost two years ago," Emori pointed out. "Unless...can that happen? In space?"

"No, it can't happen," Murphy reassured her. "Raven's being melodramatic, as usual."

"Said the cockroach to the raven." She gave Murphy a slight grin, then turned back to her star chart. "Ugh, this is really pissing me off."

"Let's mark it," Monty suggested. "Yes, Raven, in pencil, calm down."

So there's that. 

Whenever I have to make decisions up here, I hate to admit it, but I always think about what you would do, and then consider doing the exact opposite. I love you, Clarke, but you didn't always make the right choice. Somehow, I loved you despite that. 

Probably because I didn't always make the right choice either. 

That's why we made a good team. I'm so bitter that I missed out on having you in my life for more than a year. 

I miss you. 

Come back to me. 

…

year two, month eleven

Today was the hardest day of my life.

No, today was not the day that Echo told me that she had stabbed my sister and pushed her off a cliff. Today was not the day that I shot Chancellor Jaha. Today was not the day where you kissed me on the cheek and walked off into the forest.

Today was the day that Raven, Monty, and Echo finally fixed the radio.

There was static at first, and then none. Just a slight humming that indicated that the radio was alive.

Raven cleared her throat, and took a deep breath.

“Are we ready?”

There was a general whoop as everyone crowded around the box.

Raven pressed the button.

“This is Raven Reyes. There are seven of us on the ring of the Ark, and we are alive. Can anyone hear me?”

Silence.

“I repeat, this is Raven Reyes, and we are alive. Can anyone hear me?”

“Raven?”

It was a crackly voice. Crackly, but definable. 

Raven let out a slow breath. “Octavia?”

“I knew I’d been communicating with someone!” Octavia’s triumphant yell could be heard through the radio. “Raven, where is my brother? Is he okay?”

Smiling, Raven handed me the speaker. I grabbed it, practically pressing my face to it.

“O? O, is that you?”

“Bell?”

I nearly burst into tears.

“Is everyone alive?”

“Yes.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “We’re all okay. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you made it.”

“O—“

“Hold on a second. Abby wants to talk to Clarke, can you put her on?”

I froze. Everyone’s eyes had gone wide, their faces somber, just a moment ago held in place with a smile. Now my hand clenched around the radio.

“Clarke?”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Clarke, honey, are you there?” Abby’s voice was shaky. Hopeful. Ecstatic. “Clarke!”

“Abby, it’s me, Raven.” Raven took over, pressing my thumb to the button.

“I knew you could do it, Raven.” Abby sounded slightly impatient. “Where’s Clarke? Is she sleeping?”

Raven opened her mouth, and then closed it. She couldn’t do it either.

I steeled myself.

“Abby, Clarke didn’t make it up with us,” I said quietly.

Dead silence on the end of the line.

“What?” Her voice was needle-sharp. “Bellamy Blake, where is my daughter?”

“She’s on the ground,” Raven whispered.

It was all coming back. Your death was hitting each one of us, all over again.

“You left her there to die?”

Harper grabbed the radio. “She sacrificed herself to save us,” Harper spat. “She risked her life to send us up, and she told us not to wait for her. We waited as long as we could.”

The term radio silence acquired a whole new meaning today, as your mother stood underground, one hand wrapped around the radio, speaking to the children who ran away to live in the stars and left her daughter behind.

Clarke, I don’t ever want to tell someone you died again. Never. Once again, I was gripped by a surge of anger at the fact that you left us. You left us behind.

God damn you for having to be the one to save our lives.

…

year three, month one

Dear Clarke, 

We finally regained contact with the bunker today after having lost it for almost two months. Abby apologized for blaming me for losing you. I apologized to her too. Because I promised her I’d take care of you, and I didn’t.

After that conversation, Echo and I sat by the window for a while and watched Earth. Most of the planet’s pretty ravaged, and the ocean looks almost black in some areas, but there are spots of green. Like that patch in Australia, and Mexico, and what possibly used to be Portugal, Monty thinks. And there’s a bit on the East Coast, too. It could be near the bunker. We can’t tell. 

"She'd be proud of you, you know," Echo said after a while. 

"Huh?" I tore my gaze from the window. She was looking at me, really looking at me, not as if I were Bellamy "I wasn't finished talking" Blake, but as if I were a real person. 

"Clarke." She smiled slightly. "We're not just surviving up here, Bellamy. We're living. And you made that happen."

She put a hand on my shoulder then, and stared at the blackened planet. 

We can’t tell much of anything, not from up here. But at least we have a better view than our families, stuck in a bunker.

I talked to Miller a bit. He’s still bitter that he missed out on the space escape with the rest of the former delinquents, but he has Jackson. He’s okay. Jackson’s happy too. Octavia’s apparently doing a better job leading than anyone expected, apparently because she killed everyone in the conclave, (which, um, she only killed Luna) and they’re all happy down there. 

But they all have one thing in common, Clarke. Nobody expected you to die. 

…

year three, month two

Dear Clarke, 

We lost contact again. Raven says the radio’s gone haywire and she doesn’t think she can fix it this time. So that’s the last time I’ll hear from my sister in who knows how long.

We got the first crop of our strawberries today. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Of course I’ve had strawberries before, but we’ve been eating nothing but algae for two years, and, let me tell you, it gets old. 

So we ate our tiny ration of strawberries. There was one extra from the crop we picked, since we each got one and there were eight. We rock-paper-scissored it out (until we realized that Emori and Echo had no idea what rock-paper-scissors was) and eventually decided to just cut it up into sevenths. Echo volunteered to cut it, so that backfired, and we ended up with eight equal pieces. Raven, being Raven, grabbed the last piece before anyone else could claim it. 

Strawberries, Clarke. This is the best thing that’s happened so far.

I miss you so much. Some days it hits me harder than others. I’ll catch a glimpse of Harper’s hair when she takes it out of her braid and think for a split-second that it’s you. I’ll catch a glimpse of the Sky Box out the window across the ring and remember the days I spent staring at the drawings in your cell. I’ll see the sun, for God’s sake, and be reminded of the fiery look in your eyes when someone you loved was in danger. Everything reminds me of you, because you were everything.

The stars are getting closer. Raven doesn’t think they’re stars anymore, at all. It’s nothing like anything she’s ever seen. But in two months, they should be close enough for us to be able to tell.

I’ll write it down when I find out. In a letter to you, of course. Because you’re totally going to be around to read it, obviously.

Why am I still doing this? It’s been more than two years since Praimfaya.

Maybe it’s my way of staying sane.

…

year three, month five

Dear Clarke,

The stars are going away. They started heading in another direction.

Raven still wants to try to figure out what it is, but Monty and Emori teamed up and convinced her to let it go. They’re too chicken to try to figure it out. I heard Monty muttering “aliens” at breakfast this morning.

Watching the Earth is cool. You can slowly start to see the ash in the ocean collecting at the Poles, so Antarctica, which was previously pretty untouched, is collecting all the ash. It’s like a giant outline around the whole continent. Super weird. I wish you could see it, Clarke.

I wonder if anyone’s alive down there at all. I don’t see how anyone could have survived that, not even with Nightblood. It’s not possible. The world was on fire, Clarke. We watched it burn from above.

Even if you did manage to survive the death wave, you’re all alone down there. And you would have radioed by now. You still have the Rover, don’t you? 

I don’t want to think about your death. So instead, I’m going to sit at the window and think about your life.

…

year three, month nine

Dear Clarke,

Another Unity Day. Our rations this year included a cake mix (who the hell packed that?), and although we don’t exactly have half the ingredients, Murphy managed to make it into something edible. Don’t have an oven? Plenty of ridiculously hot places on the Ark. So we had watery cake today, and it was incredible.

Just a little over two years, Clarke, and then we can come home. Harper and Raven are getting nowhere on the problem of not having enough fuel. We have a fair amount, but we’d need quite a bit more to land safely, even in the water.

The first thing I’m going to do when I get home is go to the satellite tower. I need to see it, Clarke. Where you died. What it looked like when the death wave came hurtling towards you.

Were you scared?

You’re never scared. It’s one of the things I love most about you. But this…I would have been scared.

Raven thinks I seem happier lately, and maybe I am. I miss you, of course—not having you here feels like not having any of the limbs I need to function—but I think I’ll be okay.

You didn’t die in vain, Clarke.

I’m going to make sure of that.

…

year four, month one

Dear Clarke,

I heard something on the radio today. It was full of static, and I think it came from the bunker.

The only thing is…it didn’t sound like anyone from the bunker.

It was ridiculously warped and garbled, but I heard the word “Praimfaya” and “two years.”

Then it cut out completely.

I thought it might be Octavia, but her voice is a lot deeper, and she speaks more quickly than that. No, this sounded like someone else. I wonder if it was your mother.

Raven just took a look at my notebook, picked it up and smacked me with it. I feel offended, but she’s right. I can’t dance around the other possibility, however unlikely. 

Was it you?

I don’t want to think about it, because I’m probably wrong. But if there’s even the slightest chance…

No, there’s no way it was you. It was probably someone in the bunker just messing with the radio. And it worked, for a moment. 

But, Clarke…I wish it was you.

…

year four, month three

Dear Clarke,

The radio’s been quiet. I can’t help but spend a lot of time near it, even though I know I won’t hear your voice. If it was even you in the first place. 

The stars are back. They’re in a different place now, as if they’re circling the ring. Raven’s been watching them a lot, trying to figure out what they are.

“It’s not a big deal.” Harper chewed slowly on a bit of algae. We’re all used to the slimy texture of it, but I think it’s Harper that hates the vegetable the most. “If it’s circling us, it’s not going to hurt us.”

Raven pressed her lips together. “This isn’t good.”

“Aliens,” Monty muttered again.

“I don’t think it’s aliens, Monty.” Raven finally turned away from the window, frowning. “It looks almost…like…”

“Like?” I pressed impatiently.

“Like a spaceship.” 

It wasn’t exactly a revelation. The thought had crossed all of our minds, but I think nobody wanted to say it, least of all Raven. Partly because “oh shit, we have company,” but also partly because it sounds like something out of a low-budget horror movie and our reality is already pretty fucked up. 

I wonder what it’d be like to have a normal life?

…

year four, month four

Dear Clarke,

Today I fucked up. 

Today I fucked up because I’ve silently been referring to Unity Day as “Clarke Day” in my head for three and a half years and today I accidentally said it. Out loud. In front of Echo, Murphy, Monty, Emori, Harper, and Raven. 

“We should probably set that aside for Clarke Day.” 

I have no idea what I was referring to at the time, and I can’t think now. All I remember is six heads all lifting to stare at me in unison. I don’t remember us being this in tune since the day we landed.

“For what now?” Raven asked, watching me as if I might explode. Echo raised an eyebrow wordlessly. 

“Unity Day.”

“Did you just call it Clarke Day?” Emori asked.

“Dude,” Monty exhaled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I sighed. “I…when I think about Unity Day, I think about Clarke.”

They had those looks, Clarke, the ones you get when you’re trying to tiptoe around the topic of a loved one someone has lost. They were all looking at me with the same facial expression, the one that said “oh God, he’s going to cry, what do we do, what is emotion.” Not just a Skaikru thing, apparently, since Emori had the same look. 

The only person who didn't was Echo. 

I gave up at some point, swearing to myself that I’d never call it Clarke Day again.

Out loud, anyway.

I thought you deserve to be remembered.

…

year four, month six

Clarke. I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know what to think. They’re so close. We can see them. Their faces are pressed to the window, and they’re yelling. They don’t stop yelling.

They’re human, Clarke. 

And they’re trying to dock on the Ark.

…

year four, month seven

They docked.

They came in.

They grabbed Emori and Monty.

Murphy’s out of his mind, but we can’t chase them down. 

Raven’s trying to lock the ship in place so that it can’t leave. I’m waiting for her cue to storm the ship.

We have guns.

We will get them back.

You died so that they could live. I won’t let anyone take that away. We are Skaifayakru now. 

Raven picked the name, Star People, and Echo supplemented the translation. The rest of the group was fairly quick to agree.

It’s locked. We’re going. 

If I don’t make it back to my lonely journal of despair…I love you, Clarke.

…

year five, month three

Dear Clarke, 

I found it. I found the journal. We finally were allowed off of their ship. 

I’m on the Ark.

We were kidnapped by prisoners on a ship—they wanted to know who we are, what we know. We told them that the Earth was burned, simmering in radiation. And they seemed to accept that.

But when Raven held a knife to one of their throats...and he started to bleed...

Clarke, they were all Nightbloods, every one of them. 

We grilled them. We interrogated them for hours, but all they knew is that there was a giant explosion that overtook the guardhouse and they escaped, taking one of the ships. Their sensors detected the Ark and they decided to get more information. 

We're holding a few of them on the Ark for now, to try to negotiate with them. We want bone marrow samples, because if we can all become Nightbloods, we could survive the radiation on Earth. We could come home earlier than we thought. 

I'm tired of living in space. I want to go home. 

…

year five, month seven

Dear Clarke,

We're not coming home. 

We're leaving the Ark. 

We have six hours to pack everything we own, and then we're leaving with the Eligius prisoners. They're going to donate bone marrow. We're going to become Nightbloods. And then we're going to spend a year and a half on their asteroid before we can all go back to Earth. 

Earth, Clarke. They can get us there, if we go help them mine their asteroid. 

They speak English. Eligius was an American company, and I told their leader, Cleo, that that's where we were. She was fascinated by our stories of how the Ark got started and how we went to Earth and found the remaining Grounders. 

For some reason, Echo really seems to dislike her. 

…

year five, month nine

Dear Clarke, 

We're almost to the asteroid. Monty couldn't bear to leave his strawberry and pea plants behind, so he managed to basically pack up all of Go-Sci's essentials to set up on the Eligius ship. 

"I feel like an indentured servant," Raven commented this morning, passing out our Unity Day rations. Our last ones. We were supposed to start heading to the ground soon, but we will be here for one more Unity Day. 

"A what now?" Murphy asked, holding out his hand for Echo's dagger. 

"Murphy, did you never pay attention in class?"

"Are you joking?"

The easy banter between us seemed to calm the Eligiuskru's tensions about having seven random...well, not teenagers anymore. We're all adults now. 

How everything has changed. 

I turn thirty this year, Clarke. You would be twenty-four. My sister is twenty-four. It's so disorienting. 

Echo stopped by my compartment tonight. 

"Can I come in?" she asked hesitantly. I've never known Echo to be hesitant about anything. She's kind of a ball of fire. Which is funny, considering that she was Ice Nation. 

Not anymore. We're all Skaifayakru now. 

“Yeah.” I shifted on my cot to make room for her, and she sat down on the end, crossing her legs, sliding the door shut.

“What’s up?” I was in the middle of writing this, and I set my notebook aside. I’ve been trying to draw you, Clarke, because I’m slowly forgetting your face, your smile, the sound of your laugh.

I don’t want to forget. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.

But then there’s Echo, and she’s sitting across from me with her fingers twining and untwining.

And although I know you’ll never read this, never know this part of my story, I feel like I have to explain something to you. 

We were on the ground for literally less than a year before we had to go back to space again. So yes, I fell in love with you, but I only knew you for that long.

Echo…I’ve known Echo for a long time. And I don’t know if what we have is love, Clarke, but we both know there’s been something there for a while.

It’s different. But I’d like to think you’re happy that I’m trying to open my heart to new people again.

We were never together, anyway.

But back to Echo. She basically said all the same things I said. And then she kissed me.

Makes you feel kinda bad for Raven, huh? The third-wheel of the ship.

It’s funny, isn’t it? Six years ago, if you’d told me I would ever willingly kiss Echo, I would have laughed in your face and sent you to Abby to be checked out. 

…  
year six, month one

Dear Clarke,

Everyone was confused at first as to why we were tacking “kru” onto the end of every separate group of people, but I think they’ve kind of embraced it. They’re not a random bunch of ex-cons anymore—they’re a people, a kru. 

Remember when that was us? They wanted to be called “asteroid people” so we called Echo and Emori in to debate translations until we settled on Skaiboudakru. Directly translated, space rock people.

They’re…different, Clarke. They’re stiff and loose at the same time. There’s one girl, Cleo, who seems to be their leader—blonde, usually right, rational, and aggressively protective of her people—sound familiar? 

They ask us to tell them stories of Earth. I tell them stories of a girl named Clarke who saved it.

…

year six, month three

Dear Clarke, 

We got our transfusions. We’re actual Nightbloods now. I think Echo was a bit in awe when she first scraped her knuckle and saw black blood rising to the surface. Emori, less so, because she grew up on the run and never fully appreciated how important the Commander was until the City of Light. 

I told Amy and Phlox, two of the other Skaiboudakru, about the tradition of the Commander of the Blood. They laughed their heads off for the entire story. I was a bit uncomfortable, and I know Cleo wasn’t pleased. Echo and Emori just looked pissed off. 

I mean, you know and I know that the Commander thing was pretty bogus. It was a computer chip in the back of their head, and the blood was a hereditary thing created for people going to space. But this is the entire religion system of the Grounders, and it feels so wrong to disrespect that. 

I don’t know about these people. 

…

year six, month six

Dear Clarke,

We’re all just counting the hours until we can go home. 

Amy tried to flirt with me yesterday.

“And your name is so cool,” she was saying. “It’s like…Bell-a-my. Like, what if it were pronounced Bell-Amy?”

I tried not to roll my eyes. She reminded me a lot of that girl Bree—remember her? I hooked up with her a few times, but she was part of Jasper’s suicide squad, so obviously she didn’t make it past Praimfaya.

“And you have so many freckles—“

WHAM.

I kid you not, Clarke, Echo’s fist came out of fucking nowhere and punched her right in the jaw. 

I had to laugh. There was no other appropriate reaction that would fit this scenario—idiotic, frail Amy, looking beyond shocked at this highly trained Azgeda warrior just whaling her right in the face. 

“Step off,” Echo said loudly.

I smirked, but as soon as Amy flounced away, I caught Echo’s arm.

“You really don’t have to do that,” I said.

“Come on, Bellamy, she’s such a trashsaka.” 

I didn’t need to know Trigedasleng to understand that one. 

“We’re still on their asteroid, and they’re the ones who are going to get us home,” I reminded her.

“You are home,” Echo muttered.

I bit back the reply formulating in my head—that I didn’t have a home anymore. That my home, however much I wanted to deny it, was with you.

Bit of a problem. since you’re, y’know, not currently alive.

“Bellamy.”

“What?”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Echo knew. She’s not stupid. She knows exactly how I feel.

“You’re not over her,” she elaborated.

I sighed. “Echo—“

“I can’t put anything else into this relationship until I know you’re emotionally ready to move on from Clarke.” Her voice was surprisingly calm. “When that happens, let me know.”

It took me a minute to find my voice. 

“I didn’t know breakups existed after the apocalypse,” I squeaked.

“What’s up?” Raven slouched towards us, eyes suspiciously bright. “Talking about couple-y things? Things I wouldn’t know anything about?”

Do you ever get the vague suspicion that Raven is a very, very salty human being?

“No,” Echo and I grumbled in unison.

“Ah.” Raven isn’t dumb, either. “Well. If you two can put aside your problems for a moment, I have something to share. In private. So come with me.”

I stopped by my compartment to grab my journal and write this, because I don’t want to forget. So I’ll go see what she wants.

I hope it’s good news.

…

year six, month nine

Dear Clarke,

It wasn’t good news.

Skaiboudakru is planning to send a ship down to Earth in a few months, and only three of us can go on it. The seven of us have to pick the three that are going.

“I vote Bellamy, Murphy and Emori.” Monty bit down on one of his strawberries. I could tell he was wishing we still had some of our Unity Day rations for today. 

“We need Bellamy here to keep the peace,” Echo argued. “He’s surprisingly good at it.”

“I don’t need to go to the ground,” Emori said firmly. “There’s nothing down there for me. Bellamy has a sister.”

“I’m going to stay here,” Raven announced. “You all still need me to save your asses every time there’s a problem.”

No one argued.

“How about Bellamy, Monty and Harper go to the ground,” Murphy suggested, “and if you don’t burn up in some leftover radiation, we’ll all follow you down when they let us?”

“The ground has been safe for nine months,” Harper pointed out. “I want to go home. I’m ready to go home.”

“Harper, Emori and Bellamy,” Monty amended.

Harper swiveled to face him. “I’m not going without you.”

“Yes you are.”

“It’s out of the question. If you’re staying, I’m staying.”

“Monty and Harper are both going,” Raven interrupted. “They need Monty down there, and he’s not going without Harper. So that’s two spots filled. I’m going to hedge a bet that Emori and Murphy aren’t going to be separated. So that leaves Echo and Bellamy. Who’s going to the ground?”

“Bellamy,” Echo said instantly.

“Echo,” I countered.

“Octavia needs you. I’ve been banished,” Echo said fiercely.

“We won’t let them mess with you,” Harper assured her. “You’re one of us now, Echo kom Skaifayakru.”

Raven sighed. “Bellamy, a word?”

I stood up and followed her into her compartment.

“This is the most selfish, ridiculous, incomprehensible thing to ask,” she said in a low voice. “It’s not even fair. But…”

“What?”

“Bellamy, I can’t do this without you.” Raven braced herself against the door. “I’m okay with staying up here while the others go to the ground, but I need you. You and I have been in this together for almost seven years.” She smiled slightly. “Even when you broke into my escape pod and threw the radio into the river, you immediately tried to help fix it once you realized the consequences of your terrible decisions. You put up with me after I said all of those horrible things to you when I was under ALIE’s influence—“

“Raven, what—“

“Will you stay in space with me?” she asked. “You’re my best friend, Bellamy. And I know it doesn’t feel right for you to assign that to anyone else, not after Clarke—but that’s what you are to me. And I…I can’t face being up here with the creepy Skaiboudakru without knowing you’re here to watch my back.”

I haven’t written a lot in this journal about Raven, other than the occasional funny comment she’s made, but in truth, she’s been my entire support system these past six years, and every word she said was the absolute truth.

If she needs me, I’m here. Octavia’s waited for six years—she can wait a little longer.

“Of course,” I said quietly.

The look of relief on her face was heartbreaking. Raven is the strongest person I’ve ever met, but she’s not a robot. She’s human. She has emotions. And I’m not abandoning her to deal with the Skaiboudakru with only Murphy, Emori and Echo.

“Then it’s decided,” she said, pushing open the door. The group sitting on the floor looked up curiously, probably wondering what the hell Raven and I had been doing in her compartment. Echo looked especially suspicious.

I found I didn’t care in the least.

“Bellamy’s going to stay here,” Raven said, taking a deep breath. “So…congratulations, Monty, Harper, and Echo. You’re going to the ground.”

…

year six, month twelve

Dear Clarke,

They leave in two weeks.

If they make it to the ground, and it’s safe, then we “discuss our options.” Cleo, the only sane one here, thinks the rest of us should follow as soon as the first group report back, but she’s constantly being taken over by the rest of Skaiboudakru.

So at this point, I have no idea when I’m coming down.

Raven’s started sleeping on my floor. I told her she’s welcome to sleep on my cot, and I’ll take the floor, but she refused.

“I’ve got a blanket,” she said. “I’m fine. Besides, it’s not like this is the most uncomfortable I’ve ever been.”

“Are you okay, Raven?”

“I’m tired, Bellamy.”

I get it. I know exactly what she means. Our lives were flipped upside down when we went to Earth, and we’ve literally never caught a break. 

Raven isn’t Jasper-tired, but she’s getting there. And so am I.

It’s not the same without you.

…

year seven, month one

Dear Clarke,

They left this morning. 

Echo came to my door ten minutes before boarding. Surprised, I let her in.

“Hey.” I gave her a quick hug. “Are you ready to go? Do you have everything?”

“Yeah.” She glanced out the window, taking in the view of the stars. “I can’t believe I’m going back to the ground.”

“If it helps, it’s just another burned-up rock floating in the universe,” I suggested.

She sighed. “It really doesn’t.”

The silence stretched.

“You should get going,” I said. “Can’t miss your flight home.”

“Before I do…” Echo fished in her pack, coming up with her dagger. She handed it to me. “Take this.”

“Your dagger?” I frowned. “Won’t you need it on Earth?”

“I don’t feel right leaving you without something to defend yourself with.” Echo raised one shoulder. “Bellamy, if I never see you again, I want to know I did everything I could to keep you safe.”

It wasn’t a girlfriend-thing, and I could tell. At the end of the day, Echo and I were family, and we protected each other.

“Thanks,” I said.

She gave a rare smile, stepping backwards out of the compartment. “Praimfaya awaits.”

And she was gone, on her way home.

Home.

Raven stuck her head in a moment later as I stared at the dagger in my hands. “Are they gone?”

There was a huge blast then, and we both glanced out the window as the ship took off, rocketing through the sky towards the distant blackened planet.

“They are now.”

“What’s that?” She crossed the compartment and picked up the knife. “Echo’s dagger. Why didn’t she take it?”

“She thought we might need it,” I said numbly. 

Raven sighed. “Maybe we will.”

She leaned against my shoulder, and we watched the ship disappear into the sky.

…

I’ve run out of pages in this journal, Clarke, and I’m going to stop writing. Because today, Echo radioed from the ground.

You’re alive.

God, Clarke, you’re alive.

I don’t have words. Because I found out another thing today.

There was a fire in the mechanical bay, and it burned up every last bit of fuel that we had on this asteroid. As there is no fuel left on Earth, or the Ark, that makes this the most inconvenient fire in history, because that means we can’t get back to Earth.

We’re stuck on the asteroid. Forever.

Raven’s just been staring at the same spot on the wall for the past hour, and I can’t stop laughing. Because OF FUCKING COURSE the moment I learn that you’re alive and on the ground, I’m suddenly trapped in space for the rest of my life. 

It’s the best news and the worst news, all at the same time.

You’re on the other end of the radio, but I’m terrified to talk to you. I don’t know what to say.

But now Raven’s shoving it in my face, and I hear your voice at the end of the line.

“Bellamy?” you asked. “Bellamy?”

I’m breathing hard, trying to figure out what to say.

Finally, I lift the radio. Press the button.

“Clarke,” I said.

“Bellamy.”

“Clarke, I love you.”

I hear a small laugh on the other end of the line. You’re crying. And so am I. 

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> so after some deliberation and a few comments i decided i wasn't quite finished with this particular storyline and i'm about halfway into a part two.


End file.
